


In 1888

by PinetreeVillain



Series: Children of the Apocalypse [2]
Category: Children of the Apocolypse
Genre: Developing one-sided attraction, Hurray! Original Characters, Jack the Ripper - Freeform, M/M, OC, Original work - Freeform, Poorly written crime fixtion, i literally just bullshitted my way through this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinetreeVillain/pseuds/PinetreeVillain
Summary: Detective Forest is a seasoned investigator.Ignatius Dederik is a ripe detective fresh off the press.Enter Jack the Ripper(Will fix summary later)





	1. His Name

Chapter 1

The day Dederik met Phillipines Forest was the same day the Scotland Yard found the second murder of the month on George Yard, Whitechapel. It was quite the stifling morning, blood and gore wreaked the streets. Brutal and savage, some officers could not bare the look of it. 

Dederik was among the few who could stoop down to his knees and practically stick his nose in it. The commissioner stood at his back, preferring to look on over his shoulder, a hanky tucked over his snout to keep the smell from offending him. 

"What can you make of it, Doctor?" The commissioner asked. 

"Not doctor. Just professor," Dederik corrects, prodding the body's blood soaked skirts out of the way with the end of a pencil. "She hasn't been dead for particularly long.... Maybe... 3 or 4 hours?"

"You think it might be related, professor?" 

"Of course it is," answered a voice that was not Dederik's own. "It was all done with the same knife." 

The man who said it dropped down beside Dederik, pointing where he was not looking. 

"See there, the fabric is cut jaggedly, with a dull blade. The incision pattern is the same too." He pulls out a hanky and swipes blood from the numerous wounds. "The blade was about, 4 centimeters in width, 5 in length, and judging by the bruise radius it had a bolster diameter of 1 and a half centimeters. I'd call it a hunting knife, an old one. Well used but not cared for. This attack was offensive from the beginning to the end. She was grabbed by the collar, pinned to the wall, and stabbed.... 31-32-, 39 times. It was in quick succession, similar to the stab wounds on our late Miss. Smith." 

"How can you be sure?" Dederik asked, looking finally. The man's penetratingly bright green eyes were fixated animatedly on the corpse. "It could be any knife."

"Smith had stab wounds in her shoulder, very much like the ones here, not sliced, torn. Exceptionally painful. It was intentional, considering she was forced against the wall in order to inflict each wound. This killer used this blade knowing what it was capable of. Quite ingenious actually." 

"But that's as if all the wounds were inflicted straight," Dederik contradicted, determined to prove this stranger wrong. 

"They were. Efficiently and quickly. Here, and at the speed it was inflicted, there would be no time to stop to twist a blade or tear it out any other way than the way it was forced in."

Dederik studied this man's face, hatless, a neatly trimmed jaw. His jacket was blacker than the morticians, his waist coat a purple suitable for royalty. 

"But Smith informed that authority that she was assaulted by three men. What makes you think this is tied?"

"What's your name?" The green eyed man asked swiftly. 

"Ignatius Dederik. Professor in anatomy and psychology, transfer detective," Dederik shot back just as swiftly. 

"Can you fluently speak German? Or is that a speech pattern picked up from your mother?" 

" _I do speak German,_ " Dederik replied, eager to prove himself. 

" _Not often, I see. Your accent is fading. Perhaps too much time among the English?_ "

" _Perhaps. You have as well. There's something.... Is it Polish?_ "

"На самом деле, русский."

Dederik recoiled. 

"Russian actually." He translated. He shot to his feet, handing his soiled handkerchief off to an officer. He rounded on the commissioner like a hound. "Commissioner Warren, I'd say it safe to this murder as a linked chain murder. The time and place is suspiciously close. Have the press inform the public to stay off the streets when alone, increase police rotations."

"Detective?" Warren began. 

"I hesitate to call it a serial-"

"Like the Holmes case?"

"However, despite my intuition, I do not have enough evidence to state it anything other than a linked spree killing. On that, put a note out advising a more frequent police rotation and for citizens to be wary when traveling at night." 

"Right away detective." Then the commissioner turned to the record keeper who was already copying everything down. 

"See that you do. Now, if you'll excuse me." The black haired, green eyed man nodded politely. "Gentlemen." 

And he left with a sweep of his jacket. 


	2. Living Photo

Dederik would learn his name two weeks later when they both stood over a mutilated body in Buck's Row, Whitechapel. It was an eerie 4:00am with the green eyed man squinting disdainfully with a match between his teeth, gloved hands shoved deep within his pockets. Dederik stood beside him, watching the police tape off the area, confused and morbidly curious citizens roused from their sleep. After a moment of brooding silence the green eyed man lowered to a crouch, swatting a fly away from the woman's ashen dead face. Her glassy eyes stared unseeing at the slate sky. 

"What can you make of it, detective." The commissioner inquired. 

"Injuries are along the main jugular, her lower abdomen. Looks to be done with the same knife." 

"The Smith and Tabram hunting knife?" Dederik heard himself ask. 

"No." The finality in his voice left a strange feeling in his stomach. The officers present muttered among themselves, taking notes. Two were setting up the camera. 

"Jugular you say?" Dederik lowered beside him. 

"Our suspect was aiming to kill immediately his seems." 

"Not quite, actually." Dederik pointed to her throat. "Her throat wasn't cut first. See, the jugular has a greater blood flow, she would bleed out faster. She's only just stopped bleeding from her throat. She was cut across the stomach first."

"They probably attempted to slash her head on, tearing her abdomen just above her pelvis. She jumped back, only enough to miss the full impact. She tripped and fell backwards," The green eyed man grabbed her wrist and turned her palm up. "Tried to catch herself but was winded long enough for the assailant to grab her by her hair." Dederik looked to where her hair was pulled unkemptly from where it had otherwise been carefully tied. "The knife angles just so- they held they knife in their forehand, cutting away from them, good way to keep bloodstains off their clothes, putting force into the tip and slashing it out in a clean cut. 

Dederik once again stared at the man. The green eyed man opened his jaw and sighed. 

"There's precision," Dederik hurried to add. "The suspect knew where to cut her to kill her." 

The green eyed man nodded. 

"Perhaps military training? Maybe even some knowledge in the medial field," Dederik continued, narrowing it down as much as he could. "Knowing which arteries to sever is not exactly common knowledge."

"Maybe not." The green eyed man looked displeased. 

Then the commissioner called to them by name and Dederik was suddenly blanching like a fish. 

"Detective Forest." Dederik uttered softly as the living subject of his childhood read stood and strode towards the Scotland Yard chief. 

"Is it connected to the Smith and Tabram murders?" 

"No, unfortunately, other than location and gender but it's not enough hard evidence. The pattern of assault is different, this one far more careful. I want to hold off on suggesting a serial murderer just yet." 

"Are you suggesting we wait for another poor girl to get slaughtered?"

"You make it sound as if I have control of who lives and dies. I suggest you not twist my words, Commissioner Warren. I'm simply suggesting that we don't call it a serial murder until we can confirm it as such. I would be ecstatic if I knew who was going to die and where, but I do not. Whether a girl dies or not, we cannot do a thing about it. Keep the warnings and advisories up, increase them if you find the need, that's all I can offer you. Now, gentlemen, if you'll excuse-" 

And Forest began walking away, Dederik lurching to spring after him. He falls in step with him, suddenly not knowing what to say or why he's hurried after him the first place. 

Forest didn't say a thing until they were standing on the curb with all the activity behind them, both silent as Forest pulled a cigarette and a box of matches from his breast pocket. He plucked the match from his mouth. 

"What is it you want?" Forest asked, voice professional with his lips wrapped around the cigarette. Dederik stood there for several moments, star struck dumb and he forced himself to remember English. 

"You solved the King's Cross Diamond Heist," was the first thing out of his mouth. Forest huffed, nearly blowing out his match, side eyeing Dederik, inviting him to continue. "Well, I.... You solved the Buckingham Thievery and caught the greatest jewel thief in the world."

Forest tucked his matches away and stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning slightly more to face Dederik head on. Dederik finally recognized him from his pictures in the newspaper. He was stunning in color. Never had Dederik imagined he'd have such brilliant green eyes, a bold streak of white in his deep black hair. He envisioned the broach on his neck gold, but found his eyes drawn to its vibrant green gem that shared the color of his eyes. He was star struck again, utterly enraptured by the living, breathing, vibrancy of a photo in the daily newspaper. 

"A fan?" Forest joked, he swayed on his heels, a twitch of the corner of his mouth casting the brooding darkness of his expression into the light of his bemusement and pride. 

"I've read every article you were ever in since I could read. I used to spend my allowance on newspapers from different stands to see if any of the copies I had were missing any information or mentioned something new." Dederik shook his head in disbelief. "Your intelligence and disbelief inspired me to be a detective..."

Forest chewed his cigarette, the quirk in his lips stretching as Dederik spoke and it compelled him to continue. 

"I've only ever seen picture of you in black and white. I didn't recognize you before and-" Dederik suddenly stared at the ground with mild horror. "And I tried to contradict you, and say you were wrong about the knife-"

"Don't worry about the damn knife. It's irrelevant. It's a pointless trivial fact now. Continue, you have my attention." It was a fierce command that Dederik was helpless to refuse and he sputtered to continue. 

"I just, I never imagined I'd ever have the honor of meeting you, let alone working with you on a case. I had thought I'd been transferred here because you'd retired. U couldn't fathom any reason why London would need another detective when you're already the greatest there possibly is. But now I wonder where I got such a preposterous idea, as I hadn't expected you'd look so young." 

Forest's eyes widened, eyebrows flying up to his hairline and Dederik thought for one horrified second that he'd offended him. His horror was assuaged as Forest grinned, chuckling deeply, the deep chords of a Russian. He reached a hand up, grabbed Dederik's shoulder and shook his hand. 

"Well, professor Dederik, was it?" With an affirming nod, Forest continued. "I introduce himself to you as Detective Phillipines Forest. I'd do well to inform you that I am in fact not retiring or doing so anytime soon. I ask you please not to worry yourself over a knife that we'll probably never see the work of again. A smart killer never uses the same weapon twice. I'd like you to know before I leave that I'm impressed with your intuition and deduction, and that I look forward to seeing what you're capable of as we work together in the future." 

Forest gave his shoulder a pat and withdrew. 

"Have a wonderful morning, Dederik." Then Forest spun on his heels and continued down the street in the slowly brightening early morning.


	3. Blade

A week later, Forest is at the crime scene before Dederik. He'd already got the officers jotting down notes. 

"Time of death approximated at around say.... 5:45 am. Victim attempted to crawl to safety, ideas of injuries and blood loss in the process. Victim showed the same injuries found on Nichols. However abdominal injury tears open completely."

Dederik studied the woman crumpled morbidly in the doorway. 

"We can now safely say that there is in fact a serial killer loose, and we will do everything in our power to apprehend them." Forest finished with a sigh. 

"Murder weapon?" Dederik asked, gaze still fixated. 

"A blade." Forest confirmed. 

 


	4. Religiously

Dederik met Forest again that day when the latter accosted him on the street. He grabbed Dederik sharply by the arm and steered him to the sidewalk and began talking a mile a minute. 

"They finished the autopsy four hours ago, and upon notifying me, told me that her uterus was missing. Not just missing but surgically removed with precision. This narrows down all of our options to someone who most CERTAINLY has medical expertise. Our first suspects would likely fall under anyone from the doctors, to the butchers, to the morticians themselves. But that's only assuming they're a current resident of the area. I'd check the local libraries for any books on anatomy to be sure and see if they were perhaps self taught. Just to make sure we don't miss a thing. 

"Just before they completely the autopsy, I was meeting with a witness as well. They told me they saw Chapman, the victim, a HALF HOUR before they found her body. Not only is our suspect knowledgeable in the medical field, they're also incredibly efficient and quick with their work. They don't waste time. This would be the SECOND time they've managed to evade police patrols and rotations in the short week we've been increasing them. 

"The witness reported seeing Chapman with a dark hair man of shabby-genteel as well. He's probably a small man, someone who could blend very easily into a crowd without looking completely out of place-" Dederik held up a hand, stopping Forest. 

"Four hours ago?" Dederik repeated. 

Forest frowned. "Of everything I just told you, you ask me 'four hours ago'? Yes, four hours again. I've been looking for you to tell you. It is literally completely irrelevant. Now listen, any man who'd have the drive to start systematic and genius-ly planned killing must-"

"You were looking for me?"

"Yes, aren't you listening? You need to start thinking proactively, you're far too fixated on the insignificant details."

"But shouldn't you be going to the Commissioner?" 

Forest rolled his eyes, beginning to look impatient. "The commissioner is incompetent. I thought you were the only one I could have an intelligent conversation with but it looks like I've misinterpreted such."

"No no! I've been listening I'm sorry i'm just a little confused." 

"Stop being confused, and start listening." Before Dederik could respond, Forest continued right on. "Listen, this completely changes the case. We're dealing with a mastermind. He knows precisely what he's doing. He knows the police patrols, knows exactly where they'll be and when they'll be there."

"You mentioned he was of shabby stature? A poor man? Perhaps a factory worker?"

"Yes, yes."

"If he is of low class, then he must have some sort of vengeful purpose behind his attacks. A poor man doesn't systematically kill for fun."

"Exactly. There's though to it now. Strategy. I love the smart ones. It's incredibly satisfying when I outsmart them. Now, listen. Are you listening?"

"Attentively, sir." Dederik answered immediately. 

"I hope you learn to listen religiously in the future. Now, every victim has been female correct?"

"Correct."

"And all of these women were prostitutes, as no one but a prostitute would he logically out at the hours in which the murders have occurred. Family and friend of each victim have confirmed this."

"Only one victim has been confirmed to have been seen with someone." 

"Yes, I thought you were listening."

"I am!"

"Ms. Chapman was found dead, surgically missing her uterus with her throat sliced open, a HALF HOUR after she was seen with a dark haired man. In that time, the suspect had time to bring her to a secluded location in a gap between police rotations in order to commit his despicable acts and leave her bloody and bleeding for the doorsteps. The ends of her heels were broken, her dress was torn. She tried to put up a fight but never had the chance to call out."

"He cut her throat first." Dederik stated. 

"Yes, she died almost immediately after. He wanted time to himself to carefully pull out the uterus." 

"He was careful this time. Learned from his mistakes."

"Yes! Yes! He's getting smarter and smarter!" 

"You think he's doing this for show?"

"Of course he is! If he wasn't looking to broadcast his work, he wouldn't leave the bodies out in the open."

"He wants attention. A low class, intelligent citizen, observant, but can behave so normally no one would suspect a thing." Dederik articulated. 

"Yes, Dederik. Now, the game begins with the simple question: Who?"


End file.
